


Something Worth Hating

by Accordionpea



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3898465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accordionpea/pseuds/Accordionpea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny decides to take the offensive side for once, and pull a little prank on Vlad. It doesn't feel as righteous as he'd hoped, and that pisses him off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cursory

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is actually quite old, but it never got uploaded here. I'm not gonna proofread it/fix it up, so welp, if it's bad there it is! It's also 2 chapters with no real intent of ever being picked up again. If you wanted to do your own spin-off chapter, I wouldn't mind at all :o)

It's generally best not to go shouting into a sleeping bear's cave. But see, that bear has messed with him an awful lot, and it's a crazy jerk, and Danny is a stupid teenager with too much energy and too many feelings to listen to reason, so he's going to go throwing stones all up in there. Just for a little fun he calls 'justice'.

When it all began, he didn't enlist Sam or Tucker's help with these little pranks, because they started out on a much smaller scale. On a whim (if you could call flying a full hour across the state a 'whim') Danny decided that Vlad had enjoyed peace and quiet for too long; such a scummy person hadn't done anything to earn uninterrupted solitude. He always waited around for Vlad to pop-up in front of him with a fully-formed, partially-enacted scheme—so why not take the offensive side once or twice? Danny thought it was very reasonable, but not reasonable enough to propose it to his friends just yet.

The first time he visited Master's estate unprovoked, he didn't... actually have anything like a plan. He was just suddenly very indignant, dwelling on Vlad all day, ranting to himself about what a selfish dreadful pathetic prick the man was, and how he just invaded Danny's life whenever he felt like it. He couldn't stop thinking about it all the way to Wisconsin; then he floated on Vladimir's doorstep, looking half-lost like he'd sleepwalked there.

\--------------------------------------

He hadn't exactly thought this through. What he wound up doing was sliding into Vlad's house, and roaming its expansive halls aimlessly. It was so massive, he flippantly concludes that the chances of actually running into Vlad- wherever he was- were slim. He ought to have considered the danger of it and prepared, but he just didn't. This whole scheme was pretty devoid of critical thinking. Other than this impromptu trip, the only time he'd been to the estate was when the reunion was going on. At the time, the house was filled with music rolling down the corridors, various bright decorations, and people ambling about the halls looking for a bathroom in the labyrinth of (unnecessary) rooms. Right now, on a random mid-afternoon, it was completely dead. The halls were so immaculately kept; there wasn't a single spider-web inhabiting a corner or mouse creeping through the walls. The absence of these things, he finds, was more unsettling than their presence would have been. Even a little ghost-mouse would have been a welcome disturbance in the pristine passages.

He wanders carelessly, eyes leering over every closed door, supposing that most of them had likely never been opened (if things weren't kept so clean, they would certainly be covered in dust). It's when he feels a twinge of melancholy that he snaps out of it, remembering whose house this is, and what had been done to earn this solitude. Vlad had truly built this lonely miserable empire all by himself.

Rekindling his sense of purpose, Danny half-heartedly sprays whipped cream into the most-favored pair of Italian leather boots sitting in Vlad's study, and disappears.

\--------------------------------------

A day later, Danny is huffy and won't say much to anybody. The rebuttal he anticipated never came crashing into his house. Vlad was nowhere to be found, and that made him furious. Sam and Tucker press for only so long; they knew Danny's bratty habits; that he'll come forward in a few days bristling and ready to pour it all out. For now, he's mostly ignored. Danny was too stubborn to be provoked into talking when he got like this. He's lost in his head. Frankly, it creeped them out when Danny got like this, so they let him stew on his own.

Away from the lonely mansion, Danny wondered how he could ever have a feeling like empathy for a wretched old creep like Vlad, and how the hell he left that castle feeling like a bully. He knew full well the guy deserved everything he... didn't have. It was his choice to continue his life down that villainous path. If only he had gotten to see Vlad's foul smirk while he was there- it would have immediately eradicated all of this sympathetic melancholy. There was nothing like Vlad's demeaning drivel to convince you the guy was gross to his core.

Danny felt twisted, like he'd been tricked; as if this is all some mind game orchestrated by Vlad to get him to have pity for the poor, sad, lonely man. He knew full well it wasn't. But imagining it might be distracted him from it all.

Danny leaves the moment school is out, determined. A few days to stew on it left him rattled. While he knew he was being hormonal and irrational about the whole situation- really, Vlad would inevitably prove to Danny that he was a selfish creep without any urging- he still couldn't drop it. Something about it all messed up his moral compass. He needed, absolutely needed, to remember that Vlad wasn't worth a spare thought.

Flying over, Danny decided that he would seek out Plasmius this time. Somewhere in that silent mansion, he'd find him lovingly petting a new torture device, or thumbing through a notebook filled with plans to tear apart his family. Something dastardly. Something worth hating.


	2. Depth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \o/ alcohol warning?

It took quite a while to locate Vlad. The twisting hallways of his castle resisted carrying noises, the walls thick, the doors well-sealed; not a gust of wind would whistle around the hinges. The longer he searches, the more frustrated and fervent he felt. He wanted this whole endeavor to just be over with, so he could go home content with Vlad's place in his mind. If only it were easier to swallow the feelings of pity that appeared the day prior, if only he could just let them go. But Danny is stubborn and hormonal and won't accept any feelings of conflict in his mind; he can't be uncertain or wavering in his assertion that Vlad is an irredeemable villain. It would potentially impact his fighting, he asserts to himself. That was totally why he did this.

At last, Danny catches a faint hiccupping sound traveling down a hall. It's hard to locate but it narrows things down to: near. He begins to move slower, more cautiously. As much as he was compelled to burst through every door, he had to at least attempt to not set off Vlad's sense by getting too close too quickly.

The sound of breathing becomes clear only a few feet further. Hoarse, heavy, hard breaths, interrupted by hiccups and pauses. A door stands in front of Danny, the noise clearly sourced there. He nearly reaches for the handle foolishly, but remembers- right. Ghost. It strikes him how rude this is but he pushes it out of his mind, because Vlad has been far, far ruder with his intrusions on Danny's life.

Oh-

\-------------------------------------------------------

No.

Vlad's shoulders are shuddering; he is slumped forward on a couch, back facing. At first it appears he is maybe hunched over laughing, but a sniffling sound and quivering exhale stop that assumption before it can fully form. Tall green-tinted bottles litter the floor below him, empty, not a drip falling from their mouths. A delicate silver cup fidgets slightly over the carpet, as though it has just recently been dropped. Vlad's head is in his hands, and what miserable noises erupt from him. His fingers tense to grip at his hair, he humms on inhales as if he is attempting to sooth himself.

Danny doesn't move. Paralyzed. He watches the faint red vapours pour from Vlad's mouth with each shakey sigh, but the man apparently is too distressed- or too drunk- to notice at all.

There is a twisting whirl of emotion in Danny, and none of it can he settle on. He feels at first, a grotesque, compulsive pleasure- the pleasure of seeing an enemy at their most pathetic and shameful. But as soon as he can grasp that emotion, he is disgusted by its presence here. He didn't want to enjoy this. Past the first second, anything satisfying about what he's seeing fades entirely. Then it becomes like watching a car accident; a miserable curiosity, he feels pulled to see what will happen next. Or perhaps, he feels stilled by that desire. It's hard to define any of the emotions that swim through his head, every one feels uncomfortable. He doesn't know what thoughts to deny and which to defend. What reaction was best? What was appropriate?

Vlad wobbles on the couch, looking like he's about to simply fall to his side. He catches himself on his arm, and turns his head up to look directly at Danny.

No, no no. No no. He'd apparently forgotten to hold onto his invisibility, too distracted by watching. Danny stands like a deer in headlights, too overwhelmed, and Vlad shakily pushes himself off of the couch. He stumbles on the bottles at his feet, nudging one away with his foot. He looks in Danny's direction again, but his eyes- they're so glazed over. Vlad is so gone. He doesn't seem to be truly focusing on anything. Danny bares his teeth anxiously and Vlad grins, sauntering forward.

"Have you come here to kick an old man when he's down?" Vlad lowly slurs out, words barely intelligible. "Very impressive, Daniel. You're ever a perfect boy. D'you come here often?" Vlad continues to stumble forward. So absorbed in the spectacle, Danny merely continues to shuffle back until he is touching the wall, not at all resisting the temptation to stay a moment; he didn't feel as if he needed to maintain a special vigilance or high-tail it out of there urgently. Vlad was scarcely a considerable threat; it appeared that even standing was a feat for him right now.

He swings a bottle of wine in Danny's direction, something he didn't even notice him holding. Danny flinches, but he's not close enough for it to hit - "Would you like to join me?" Vlad offers, gesturing to Danny with the bottle once more. "Or are you too goodie-goodie for that?" He humms and wobbles, Danny instinctively pulls his hands up as though to catch him in case he falls- but Vlad raises his hand up to balance himself. He still grins widely. "If you're at my manor you must partake of sss-some decadence," his words break apart at the syllables. He stutters. "Come now," his voice shakes. "I won't tell your m-mother."

Every muscle in Vlad's face tightens like it's trying so hard to brace, he chokes and laughs- or sobs? It's a mixture. His chest shudders and he raises a hand to his head, lets out a long wretched groan, growls in his throat. Danny feels tears prick at his own eyes, and it is officially Enough—it's begun to feel morbid, witnessing this-

"I should probably GO," Danny says mostly to himself. The very second his makes to do this, Vlad's free arm comes jetting out faster than he can recognize (faster than he would have thought the man capable of in his state), slamming Danny back into the wall behind him; Vlad's fingers curl tightly into his shoulder, knuckles white. Danny instinctively closes his eyes.

"D-Daniel?" Vlad shakes out.

Mutual shock, both frozen a second. Vlad rapidly yanks his arm back, stares at it, stares back at Danny, who is too fascinated in the expression on the man's face to disappear like he should; too confused as well. Vlad's breath turns desperate and ragged, and he whimpers: a noise Danny could never have imagined coming from him. Vlad looks stunned. His eyes lose the bleary, cloudy look, now set into a focused shock. It's as if he hadn't expected to be able to touch the boy, as if he thought him only a figment of his imagination.

Did that imply Vlad frequently spoke to imagined people? Danny can't think too hard about that. His stomach twists just breeching the idea of this being a 'regular thing' for the man.

Vlad's face shakes like it isn't sure which emotion to convey, he grabs his head before every bit of him is tense and snarling. "You've come to gawk at me, little badger?" he spits. He has never looked so angry."It isn't enough, foiling my every plan and being the very symbol for my failures? You- intrude into my house-"

Without warning an electric blast is fired, but thankfully Vlad is still quite impaired by so much alcohol, and so it blatantly misses. Danny skitters along the wall, looking like a mouse having just realized it had fallen into a snake's terrarium. He stumbles on the wine bottle Vlad apparently dropped to do the blast.

Vlad attempts to shift into Plasmius, but apparently that is impaired by his state, too- the rings form on his torso but don't pull more than a few scant inches apart before closing and vanishing. Vlad walks forward with heavy feet. Danny shuffles his feet on the ground like an idiot, staring up at the man.

There are still tears in Vlad's eyes. Only a few feet closer, and Vlad suddenly veers to the side to slump against a wall, eyes clutched closed, another choked sob bursting out. He sinks down to the floor on his knees, clutching his temple, mumbling things Danny can't understand.

Finally breathing a moment, Danny watches Vlad only a minute before realizing he's being completely absent.

He vanishes through an adjacent wall, and leaves the manor.


End file.
